


Mein Herr

by ShawolGoddess



Category: SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cabaret, Drag Queens, I'll add more tags later as I post new chapters bc... spoilers, It's only implied though, M/M, Mugging, Prostitution, i guess, its just a characters role in their job and isnt that focused around it, theres a brief mugging i added in so if thats a nope for you-
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-14 10:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16038230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShawolGoddess/pseuds/ShawolGoddess
Summary: Kim Kibum came to New York from his small town to chase his aspirations of becoming a star on Broadway. However, once arriving, things quickly got out of hand and he finds himself working as a drag queen in the Odd Eye Club. Soon, the performers became his family. One day, a young man, Minho, catches his eye. It happens that Minho might be his ticket to his dreams.





	1. Willkommen

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I had to repost this but I was so embarrassed by the first draft that I had to totally reupload it. I'm much happier than I was before with this, and I hope you'll enjoy it as well. Please don't be afraid to leave criticism in the comments! I'm always glad to find new ways to improve my writing.

__~Here, life is beautiful~_ _

 

The bright lights of the city flashed by the taxi window. Multiple skyscrapers, advertisements, and billboards sported their on unique set of colors. A young man stared out of the passengers seat in awe. This was what his dreams were made of. The city was all he expected and more. This was it, the Big Apple, the city that never sleeps: New York. He's made it.

Since he was a child, Kibum's only aspiration was to perform on Broadway, and those dreams were drawing nearly every street block he passed. No more background roles in a high school play, and no longer will he be ignored by community producers who cast on favoritism instead of talent. Stars were born here, and he was born to be a star.

The taxi came to a stop and he lugged his bag over his shoulder. He took a step outside, letting the atmosphere sink in. Car horns blared, the rumbling of engines came from all directions. The exhaust was thick and threatened to choke him. The locals were in their own forms of rush, some with their heads down and headphones in, others arguing loudly on the phone, not caring who their briefcase hit. Yet, it was alive. Every moment was full of life. Everything was so much grander than what a mere Google image search can offer. Starry eyes, he turned on his heels, eager to live his new life.

Many times along his journey, Kibum found himself staring up at the buildings. Their flashing lights shimmering in his eyes. An ad scrolled by on a building multiple times before he went along his way.

Eventually, the advertisements and crowds of people began to dim and disperse. The area began to darken and turn unfamiliar. Kibum glanced around, unable to distinguish where he was going anymore.

He fished his phone from his pocket, clicking the home button to see what time it was, or where the nearest hotel would be. Unfortunately, his lock screen didn't greet him, a red battery icon showing instead. He cursed and put his phone back in his pocket. He pulled his jacket tighter around him and chose a direction to walk in.

He traversed in silence, finding himself in the dark alleys between residences. The only light he had where from TV's peeking through curtains. He's palms began to sweat, but he persisted through the dim maze.

There was a scuffle behind him, and he turned with a gasp. He exclaimed the alleyway, eyes dashing from one silhouette to another, but none were strange. He slowly began to go back along his intended route. A few seconds later, another noise. Kibum froze in his tracks. Trying to keep himself from shaking, he looked over his shoulder. His eyes widened, a humanoid shadow standing not to far behind. The adrenaline of panic flooded through him and he bolted.

His heartbeat and labored breath deafened him as he ran. He was unsure if he was being pursued still, yet the idea of looking back made bile rise in his throat. He kept running, pace wavering from his heavy backpack and tired calves.

A hand grabbed his shoulder and brought him to a stop that nearly toppled him backwards. The pursuer's nails dug through Kibum's clothes and into his shoulder, causing him to whimper. He attempted to remove the hand, but his arm was yanked back once he raised it.

The sound of a knife being unsheathed was what made Kibum struggle harder. He pleaded, or he would have if the words would escape his throat. __Shink.__  A weight lifted off of Kibum's shoulders and he asked himself if this was death.

Unfortunately, he found the weight lifting was literal as he was flung to the ground, his body colliding with discarded boxes. From his position on the ground, footsteps subsided, and his belongings were gone with them.

The rough concrete had scraped his skin when he fell, the stinging accented by cold air nipping at anything exposed. A single light shone directly onto him, spotlighting his shame. He stared at the ground for what seemed like hours before he stood and brushed himself off. His eyes darted around him, scanning the area.

He stumbled toward the light, leading him back onto a main street. His only decision now was left or right. the right appeared to be residences, but to the left had bright lights in the distance that were far more promising. Again, he walked toward the lights, head hung and eyes focusing on the pavement.

The night chill crept it's way into his bones and he drew his jacket closer to ward it off. His eyes glanced up occasionally in hopes of finding a place to rest his burning feet. His eyes stung from a need of rest, blinking rapidly to stop the pain but found it difficult to open them.

As he was about to turn into an alley to get some semblance of rest, a bright neon sign caught his eye. It was cheap, in need of repair, the words "The Odd Eye Club" flickering in the night. Kibum took note of the other signs around, this being the only that was open, or at least welcoming.

He dug into his pockets, letting out a chuckle when he discovered his ID was still on him. He approached the bouncer, showed him the card, and was let into the venue.

Entering the club was like stepping into a time machine. Kibum was young, and couldn't recall seeing an actual cabaret. The air of the place was far from that of a usual club. No one was partying, and there wasn't a trace of modern technology, save for the occasional cellphone. Opposite of the door was a rounded wooden stage where a small band was performing. The guests were crowded in the center at small circular tables meant for nothing more than as a place to set a purse. Along the walls were curtained alcoves. A well dressed man in a tweed vest escorted a lady in provocative vintage lingerie behind the curtains. Kibum didn't need to use his imagination to know what they were doing, or what other favors this place provided.

He made his way down the steps into the crowded clutter of tables and squeezed his way to the nearest open seat.

Apparently, the workers weren't the only ones dressed to the nines. The seats were filled with men in well tailored suits and ladies in elegant evening gowns, all appearing as if they were attending a formal dinner and not a niche strip club. Kibum shifted in his seat, straightening his back and clearing his throat. He absently brushed some dirt off of his pants. He folded his hands on the table and watched the candle flicker as the ban began to silence.

Kibum brought his attention to the stage. A round faces man had entered, leaning on his cane and giving the audience a wide grin. His makeup was extreme, with a heavily powdered face and lips colored bright red. He gestured to the band the crowd applauded.

"Ladies and gentleman!" He greeted, voice honeyed and smooth. "Did you enjoy our little band?" There was cheering once more. He kicked his cane up and rested it on his shoulder, strolling over to the piano. He leaned against the instrument, face close to the pianist. "Do you hear that, Jonghyun? They like you."

The host returned to center stage, leaving Jonghyun with cheeks as pink as his hair. Steadying his cane back on the ground, he waited patiently for the tittering to quiet down. "My name is Onew. I am your host for the evening." The drummer gave him a drum roll and Onew took off his top hat and bowed. "I surely hope you're enjoying your night, for the fun has only just begun." His tone was light yet powerful, resonating a sense of charm. Onew's grin had never faded, it was nearly unsettling.

"I would now like to present our cabaret girls!" He announced. The crowd cheered. They must have been anticipating this.

"Irene!" A symbol crashed as Onew pointed his cane to the wings where a young woman walked out, wearing similar lingerie as the woman he saw earlier. The band began a jaunty loop of bars and the girl snapped her hips in time, her expression blank.

"Joy!" Onew gestured his cane to the opposite wing as another girl entered, doing the same routine as the other. A couple people in the audience whooped and clapped, catching Onew's attention. He stared at the men, amusement gleaming in his eyes. "Oh you like Joy?" Kibum turned his head to see the pair muttering and nodding their approval. Onew smirked. "Well, too bad, so does Irene." Kibum snorted. The audience voiced their amusement, while the men sat there offended.

In a similar fashion, Onew introduced Sunny, Victoria, Krystal, and Seohyun. "Each and every one." he claims "a virgin." The house muttered in disbelief. Onew's grin faded into a pout. "You don't believe me?" He walked over behind Sunny, one hand on her shoulder. "Well, don't take my word for it! Go ahead, try Sunny!"  He gently tapped his cane on Sunny's ass and went back to center stage, howling with laughter.

"And now, our cabaret boys!"

"Taemin!" A light shone on a slender man on the balcony. He was doing the same dance as the girls, his unbuttoned vest moving with him. "And Kai!" The light focused on a similar looking man on the opposite balcony.

"Or is it Kai and Taemin?" He said, pointing to the boys again. There was a pause. Onew shrugged and leaned towards the audience, cupping his hand as if to tell a secret. "You know, there's only one way to find out." He said with a wink. Kibum glanced up at the boys again, examining their features and trying to distinguish if they were brothers or not.

"Heechul!" The light moved upstage to a man standing on the edge. "He's our resident pretty boy, and our resident gossip. I hope you like talkers." Heechul rolled his eyes and giggles were heard from the house.

To the opposite, "Eunhyuk." Onew faced the crowd. "Do you know what the funniest thing about Eunhyuk is?" He burst out laughing. The crowd was giving each other awkward glances. His laughter came to a halt and he shifted to deadly serious. "There's nothing funny about Eunhyuk." The man mentioned shot an offended look back towards Onew.

Onew came up to the front, looking like a true host as the dancers were perfectly mirrored on the stage behind him. "Enjoy your evening!" He said, sweeping off his top hat and giving a flourished bow. The band kicked up a new tune and the burgundy curtains fell closed, ending the opening act.

Kibums eyes tore themselves from the stage. His mesmerism with the performance faded with the closing curtains, yet a part of him remained curious. Glancing around the room, he found a few patrons were casting their gazes his way. He swallowed and continued his scan. A bouncer was watching him intently. Kibum let out a breathy gasp and stared down at his hands.

He should have left. He couldn't pay for a drink or "company." He was just a bum surrounded by nobles. Yet, he stayed. The night was cold and the sun was far from rising. The bottoms of his feet still burned and his eyelids still threatened to shut. A spectacle was better than an icicle. Plus, there was no music out on the streets.

Joy and Irene were performing some interpretive dance about snakes that Kibum was only half paying attention to when a chair scraped against the floor and a silhouette sat across from him. Focusing on his peripherals, he saw Onew, makeup and costume removed, his prominent top hat set in front of him.

Kibum turned in his chair to face the host. "Shouldn't you be backstage?" he quipped.

Onew chuckled. His posture was relaxed, with one arm up on the chair's back, legs crossed. "I like to spend some time with new customers. Is that wrong?"

"I don't have the money for that."

"I know that." Onew said, leaning in. "That wasn't what I meant."

"Then what do you want from someone who can't even contribute?"

"What's your name, kid?"

"Don't call me 'kid.'" Kibum spat.

"Then tell me your name." Onew retorted with his signature grin.

Kibum rolled his eyes before introducing himself.

"Kibum! An excellent name." He extended his hand. "I'm Jinki."

Hesitantly, Kibum shook his hand. "I thought it was Onew."

"Oh, that's just my stage name. Anyways, mind telling me your story?"

Kibum cocked his head. "Excuse me?"  
Jinki gestured to Kibums tattered clothing. "People don't usually show up here looking like that unless they have a story to go with it."

With a sigh, Kibum told him about how he came to New York to become a Broadway star, his lack of planning, long walk, and the mugging that lead him to the club.

Jinki looked sympathetic, but also like he was going to give him a scolding. He was nodding silently along with the story, relaxing back in his seat when it was over.

"So, you're a performer?" Kibum nodded. "Then how would you like to perform for us?"

Kibums eyes widened. "Come again?"

"You're a performer and we need someone new." Jinki said. His eyes glimmered at the idea of Kibum among their ranks, but Kibum couldn't quite tell what he had in store for him.

"Well..." Kibum paused. "I do need the money."

"Great! You start tomorrow!" Jinki exclaimed, standing and sweeping his hat onto his head. "I'll get your costume, wait here."

Kibum couldn't get another word in before Jinki was weaving his way through he tables to backstage. After a few minutes of thumb-twiddling he came back out with a plastic bag. "Here you are. Costume and a bit of money."

He accepted the bag, taking a quick peak inside. There was a small wad of of cash on top of some fabric that Kibum couldn't distinguish in the dim light. "Thank you Jinki, this is really kind of you."

"No worries." Jinki mused. "That’s coming out of your paycheck anyways. Now go get a hotel and some warm food."

With a final thank you and some directions, they said their goodbyes. Kibum travelled to the hotel at a brisk pace, the former stinging now light. He wasn't sure when he started smiling, but it wasn't daring to live. Perhaps he was just relieved. He has a place to stay for the night, can get some breakfast, and has a job somewhat resembling his dream job.

He checked into the hotel and headed up to his room. He relished in the shower, washing all of the grime he acquired that day down the drain. He flung himself on the bed after drying, marveling in how comfortable the mattress was against his aching body.

Curious, he grabbed the bag Jinki had given him sat on his knees, and dumped the contents onto the bed. What was inside certainly wasn't what he expected. Now scattered on the bed was a gold headband,  short black heels, a red pixie cut wig, and the highlight of the outfit: a black satin flapper dress.

Kibum was still for a while before muttering under his breath "Oh boy..."


	2. This World Will Remember Me

_****_****~I don’t intend to waste my life ‘round here~

 

Backstage was chaos. Performers shoved past each other. Some ran into others as they attempted to apply their makeup, only to have it smudge. People on the far end of the narrow room yelled at those on the opposite side for clothes and accessories. Cigarette smoke mixed with the dusty air. The occasional cough came from those practicing their vocals.

The action, the friction, it excited Kibum. The chatter was constant, no moment was silent. A skilled ear could pick out aspects of conversation from any person at any time. The moments before the opening number allowed him to learn about his fellow employees quickly. A year in the business and days fell into a comfortable routine.

Kibum pulled his stockings up his leg and fastened them to a garter. Heechul stood next to him, leaned against the wall, hardly dressed. He chattered some nonsense regarding Irene. Kibum tuned him out simply. Heechul was never the person to realize someone was ignoring him.

He fastened the last garter and slid his signature black satin dress over himself. He smoothed out the skirt and the beads clattered as they settled. He turned to the mirror, barely noticing Heechul’s offended exclamation. He tucked his hair into a wig cap and put on his red wig. He adjusted and combed it into its proper style of a bob.

“Two minutes to showtime!” Jinki’s voice sounded over the chaos. The room fell silent and struck up louder than before.

Kibum applied his lipstick and fastened his chest pads into place. He slid into his heels and went over to his stage entrance.

The opening performance was smooth, clockwork to the performers, their only change came with the addition of Kibum. They retreated into the dressing room. They were to wait until it was their turn to perform. They were allowed to go out into the crowd if they pleased, but most preferred to stay in the room and chat while the muffled band played their tunes. However, they were required to leave if it was time for their number, or if they’ve been requested.

Shortly after he arrived back to his dressing station, Kibum changed into a long black dress with white beads for decoration. A slit went up the time that showed the majority of his leg. He wasn’t to perform for a while, but when did it hurt to be ready?

Around the room, the performers had circled into their usual groups. The chaos has ended for the evening, now just the faint chatter of multiple conversations. Typically, the women tended to talk among themself, same with the men. Kibum was the biggest rule breaker of this circumstance.

At a station nearby, Taemin struggled with fastening his cuffs. Kibum spotted him and chuckled at the sight of it. He stood and walked over to the boy.

“Hold out your arm,” He said.

Taemin gasped and shot his gaze up to Kibum, eyes wide until he recovered from his shock. He ran a hand through his bleached hair, strands standing in all directions. “I don’t need help.”

Kibum rolled his eyes. “Tae, I could hear you grumble from across the room. Let me help.”

Taemin held out his arms to Kibum after a moments pause. Kibum buttoned the cuffs and left Taemin to adjust them to their proper place on his arm. “Thanks,” he muttered.

Kibum grabbed a nearby stool and took a seat. Taemin futzed with his hair in silence, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “What’s up, Tae?” Kibum asked, concerned.

Taemins hands stilled. He didn’t move his head but his eyes glanced at Kibum from his peripherals. “Nothing,” He answered, dismissive. His gaze had returned to the mirror as his hands continued to prep his bleached damaged locks.

Kibum sighed and leaned forward. “C’mon Taemin, you’re not usually like this.”

Taemin stood. The chair threatened to fall backwards from the force, but settled. “I said it was nothing, Kibum.” He bit. He spun and stomped towards his stage entrance. He accidentally shouldered Jinki as he rushed past. Jinki looked back at Taemin, worry in his eyes. Kibum swore he caught a tinge of guilt before Jinki’s expression changed back into his usual demeanor. He called for Kai to go into position, then went back out to the stage.

Kibum crossed his legs, eyes glued on the stage entrance. A hand grasped his shoulder and he jumped, defensive. He turned his head and relaxed as he recognized it was Eunhyuk.

“I know you’re concerned,” he said, “But the kid’s had a lot of requests this past week. He’s probably tired, so let him breathe.” He said before he went back to whatever it was he was doing.

Kibum sat in the same spot as time passed. He acknowledged anyone who came up to him to say a quick word, but they never stayed long. He watched the others prepare and occasionally hummed to the notes that bled through the wooden walls.

Jinki popped his head into the room, hair disheveled from his constant duties. “Kibum! You’re up!” He yelled out before he exited as quick as he entered.

He made his way onstage, the thick curtains closed to hide his preparations. The band had left and the piano was moved to center stage. Jonghyun sat there in wait for his cue. Kibum ruffled Jonghyun’s hair as he climbed onto the piano. He lounged along the top and adjusted his dress so it showed his entire leg. He closed his eyes, and waited.

From the other side of the curtains, Jinki made his introduction, of which Kibum had all but memorized at this point. “Ladies and gentleman,” he mouthed along with the host, “Tonight we have a wonderful treat. A woman most beautiful with the talent to match. In fact, one night, I told her I wanted her for my wife, to which she said ‘your wife? What would she want with me?’” Jinki giggled. “I present to you, the glorious mistress Key!”

The curtains parted and the performance began. The audience was alert as Jonghyun began to play a soft melody. Kibum began to vocalize, gentle and sultry. He began to sing and slid off the piano, showing as much skin as the dress allowed. The songs meaning was simple, but the melody was intricate. Composed by Jonghyun, the song was about how one loved their man and would do whatever he wished. Jonghyun wrote it specifically for Key.

He descended into the crowd, slow, the swaying of his hips accented as he moved. As he traversed through the crowd, he brushed his hands against male patron’s shoulders, and gave the women knowing glances. He teased many and caressed faces as he passed.

His eyes caught on a new patron, or at least one he had never seen before. He bee-lined to him, gaze pinned on the strangers. He sat in the mans lap and smirked as the man looked at him, confused and entranced. Kibum slid a finger along the mans jawline and leaned in close to his face as he sung a line about wanting his lover in his bed.

He stood and left the man flabbergasted, possibly turned on. He sauntered back to the stage. The number came to it’s final notes and it ended as it started, with Kibum perched on the piano. The curtains fell and the crowd applauded.

Kibum hopped down from the piano, gave Jonghyun a quick hug, and went backstage. He took off his wig and let his sweaty head breathe. He sat and removed the heels, massaging the pinch marks they left. He set the articles down at his station and stood. There was a thin, green curtain that separated the dressing room from the house. Kibum drew the curtain back enough to be able to glance into the crowd. He spotted the man he had seduced. He paid close attention to the next act, face still tinged red. Kibum smirked, pleased with himself.

 He dropped the curtain and turned back into the dressing room. He scanned the room, keeping an eye out for anyone not busy. In a corner, Irene and Joy were in loose conversation, while the rest were preoccupied with work. Kibum headed over to them.

Startled, their conversation came to a halt. “Sorry I interrupted,” he said, “but do you know who the man at table five is?”

The girls looked at each other. Irene dashed over to the curtain and peeked out behind it. She came back to them with a smirk on her face. “It’s Silent Treatment!”

“Silent treatment?” Kibum asked

Joy giggled. “It’s what we call him because he only watches the performances.”

“He cheers and such but he never requests anyone. He just gets a drink and sits back.” Irene added.

“Do you guys know his name?” Kibum inquired.

“Choi something? I think I heard someone else talking about him a while back. Some big Broadway higher up.” Irene explained. A glimmer shone in Kibum’s eyes as an idea sprung in his head. She noticed this and looked up at him. “How come?”

Kibum shook his head. “Nothing, just curious. Thank you.” He left the girls to continue their conversation and went over to his station.

He changed out of his performance dress into a short, red, drop waist. He slid on a pair of black gloves that matched his black stockings. He put his wig back on and combed it out once more. He found flats that matched and slipped them on.

He walked out into the crowd, back straight. Eyes gawked at him as he passed. The man hadn’t noticed that Kibum was heading his way, his eyes hadn’t leaved the stage since the last time Kibum had checked.

“Good evening,” he said, voice toned high to keep up his feminine persona.

The man jumped in his chair and his head snapped to look at the origin of the noise. “Oh- Hello,” he said slowly.

“May I sit with you?” Kibum said and gestured to the seat next to him.

The man nodded. “Well, you sat on me, so I guess you can next to me too.” He chuckled, nervous.

Kibum giggled and pulled out the chair. Elegantly as possible, he attempted to keep up his feminine persona. He crossed his ankles, hands on his knees, and puffed out his makeshift breasts. “What is your name?”

“Minho,” he said. His eyes flicked a glance over to his quest. “Choi Minho.”

Kibum nodded and leaned on his elbow. “You can call me Key.” He said, refined.

Minho shifted in his seat, and Kibum caught him as his Adams apple bob from a swallow.

“So,” Kibum said, breaking the silence. “What brings you to the Odd Eye Club?”

Minho’s head turned to Kibum. “I come here often. It’s a nice break om my work.”

Kibum tilted his head and smiled. “And what kind of work would that be?”

“Broadway stuff. Management and bullshit like that. Scouting.”

Kibum sat up straight at the sound of the last statement. “Broadway stuff?”

“Yeah. My dad has a company and he’s been teaching me the ropes.”

“Sound’s like difficult work.”

“It can be.” Minho agreed and turned his head back to the stage.

“I understand that.” Kibum muttered.

They sat in silence for a few moments before Minho turned back to Kibum. “I’m sorry, miss, but I’d really like to watch the performances, if that’s alright?”

Kibum smile began to fade but he recovered before Minho could notice. “Alright. As you wish, sir,” he said. He stood and pushed in the chair. “Another time?”

Minho glanced up at Kibum. “Yeah, sure,” he said and turned his attention fully back onto the stage.

Kibum sighed and returned backstage, mildly irritated. He tugged off his wig and cap and flung both on his station. He sat down and combed his fingers through his hair. That encounter could have gone a lot better, and had in his mind. “Another time…” he mimicked as he combed his finger through his hair.

A chair scraped against the wooden floor. He turned his head to see Jonghyun taking a seat.

“So, what was that all about?” He mused.

Kibum sat up straight. “What’s it to you?” He teased.

“Kibum, please, we live together, if you’re gonna start flirting with people I need to prepare for you bringing people over.”

Kibum rolled his eyes. “I doubt it’ll get to that point.”

“Oh well,” he shrugged. “If you ask me, you need the lay but if you say so.”

Kibum chuckled and shook his head. “Get back to your piano before Jinki get’s stingy, Jjong, I’ll see you after we finish.”

Jonghyun said a quick goodbye and rushed back onstage, passing past Jinki on his way, the host caught off guard once again.

Kibum turned back to the mirror and examined his features. He touched up his makeup for the final number and pondered how this escapade would work out.

During the final number, he found his attention locked onto Minho a few times, which threw his off. When his back was turned, he could feel Minho’s gaze on him as well, as warm as the spotlights. He smiled to himself. This was going to be interesting.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick word: I don't know if what I wanted to come across actually worked but, I hope it'll unfold more once I write more. Anyways, I'm also pretty proud of how I wrote this, I think this is some of my best writing in a while.


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